But, swift and cool, he had writhed from
under it ere it fell, spurned it with his foot as it rolled upon
the earth, and then seizing its mane as it rose swung himself
lightly on to its back once more. Even the grim sacrist could not
but join the cheer, as Pommers, amazed to find the rider still
upon his back, plunged and curveted down the field.
But the wild horse only swelled into a greater fury. In the
sullen gloom of its untamed heart there rose the furious resolve
to dash the life from this clinging rider, even if it meant
destruction to beast and man. With red, blazing eyes it looked
round for death. On three sides the five-virgate field was
bounded by a high wall, broken only at one spot by a heavy
four-foot wooden gate. But on the fourth side was a low gray
building, one of the granges of the Abbey, presenting a long flank
unbroken by door or window. The horse stretched itself into a
gallop, and headed straight for that craggy thirty-foot wall. He
would break in red ruin at the base of it if he could but dash
forever the life of this man, who claimed mastery over that which
had never found its master yet.
The great haunches gathered under it, the eager hoofs drummed the
grass, as faster and still more fast the frantic horse bore
himself and his rider toward the wall. Would Nigel spring off?
To do so would be to bend his will to that of the beast beneath
him.
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